Of Blade and Magic

Priscilla’s firm yet quiet footsteps echoed along the streets of Arivaul. Her eyes naturally scanned for potential threats as she moved while also keeping a mental note of the type of person to walk in those streets at that hour of the day.

‘Workers should either be finishing up or heading home… others might be adventurers…? Aside from them and guards, it doesn’t seem like most folks carry weapons in the open…’

She was skeptical—life in the bustling streets of the Arcadian capital left her leaning more on the side of caution rather than just gut feeling. A dagger’s blade could come out from any given person with enough animosity after all.

She sighed quietly. Another cursory glance around the central square made her notice a few nobles eyeing her from a distance which soon turned into quick flicks of heads to avoid direct eye contact with the knight.

‘Hmm…’

Her feet lingered in a half step for a brief moment before her whole body moved towards the guild’s entrance. While she didn’t recognize any specific individual of the group staring at her, she got the feeling it was anything but friendly.

Inside the guild she decided to put that on a hold and with a long, deep breath, she prepared herself for her upcoming challenge.

Bounty hunting.

“Lucina.” Priscilla spoke as she got closer to the receptionist—who was finishing putting some documents away. “May I have a look at the bounties?”

“Huh? Miss Priscilla, already?”

“The early bird catches the bookworm, or should I say criminal?” She gazed around the board behind the receptionist but there was nothing in regards to bounties, only normal quests pertaining to collecting dungeon materials or escorting jobs. “You don’t put them publicly, do you?”

“Well… bounty hunting isn’t exactly the focus of an adventurer’s guild, you know.”

“I figured, but it still seems off to not have a board with only the bounties.”

“You can chalk it up to politics.” She explained as she reached for another stack of papers—much thinner this time, under the counter. “The innkeepers and merchants rather not have bounty boards available to the public to see, it creates—as per their words, ‘unwanted tension’.”

“Tension or not, I’d be more relieved to actually know who is dangerous enough to have a bounty put on their heads.”

“You and I both, but unfortunately the guild must follow rules or risk not getting funded.” She put the thin stack of paper on top of the counter before fanning them out slightly. “Here, these are the bounties. They haven’t been organized to danger levels but I must warn you, some individuals here are not to be taken lightly. They will kill you if you go after them.”

Priscilla leaned over and started to shuffle through the papers while quietly whispering to herself.

“This blade of mine is already used to blood.” As her eyes went through the papers, one stood out from the rest the moment she read the word kidnapping alongside the sketch of a middle-aged man. “Could you explain this one?”

She pulled it out of the middle of the papers and presented it to the receptionist, whose face turned sour upon seeing it.

“Ah… this…” She frowned with her lips curling ever so slightly inward. “A widow posted it. She was married to an adventurer who died in the dungeon and had her daughter taken from her. The city guard never found the culprit and…”

She stopped mid-sentence which made Priscilla to gaze up from the papers. There was a wistful silence and somewhat sad expression on Lucina’s face.

“And…?”

“Ah, sorry.” She blinked a few times before resuming the story. “The widow died a couple of years back. She even left the reward for the bounty but no one ever picked it up. Maybe everyone thought with her gone, so too would be the reward, but it's still here…”

Lucina placed the paper back near Priscilla and her eyes trailed to the reward.

“A silver coin, huh?”

“To be frank, I’m not even sure if the man in question is still alive. It has been almost a decade or so–”

She was stopped mid-sentence as Priscilla slid the same paper forward on the counter.

“I’ll take this.”

Visibly shocked, the receptionist tried to dissuade her by raising both hands and offering a slightly friendly if not nervous smile.

“Miss Priscilla, it has been years since this bounty was made–”

“If it is still here then someone believes there is a chance this scumbag is out there somewhere.” Her left hand reached for the hilt of her rapier and each finger closely tightened its grip around it. “Do I have a deadline?”

“N-no, not really. But we’ll need a way to verify his identity somehow, so–”

“No mangling his face or burning him to a crisp, got it.”

Just as quickly as she came, Priscilla pocketed the bounty paper—turned around and headed straight towards the door with a fiery determination in her eyes. A lingering thought remained in her mind as she walked outside—why was a criminal like that still on the loose? While the blood running through the child’s veins did, unfortunately, dictate whether or not they were worth saving—a crime was still a crime in her eyes. To leave a scum like that go unpunished just didn’t sit well with her.

One advantage she held above the over-the-counter adventurer was her experience hunting for criminals. As a squire, she was the only one to actively pursue assailants and instigators back in the capital during the civil war which earned her rightful place amongst the Knights Trio.

Her left thumb rubbed the round pommel of her rapier as she took the crumpled bounty paper out of her pocket.

The drawing was a bit faded but she could still make out the man’s appearance. Grizzly short hair, dark brown eyes and presumably a vertical scar alongside his neck.

“Not much to go on, but it’ll do.” She folded the paper and turned her head to the blacksmith shop. “I bet if anyone would tell me something, it would be Geralt.”

Took one wide scan around the immediate vicinity but nothing caught her eye as she moved towards the shop.

“Geralt.” She called out as she opened the door—a familiar scent of burning coals hit her nostrils. “Are you there?”

“Aye–” His voice echoed from the room at the back as the last sounds of metallic hammering reverberated all the way to the entrance. “Watcha want lass?”

“I’m looking for someone—so I was hoping you’d have some information.”

She glanced around the shop and took the liberty to walk to the room at the back since there were no other customers. There, she found Geralt finishing the last touches on an axe’s blade before he put the hammer aside and took one side glance with a raised eyebrow.

“Ye know, ol’ Geralt ‘ere is a blacksmith not a tavern keeper, aye? Why aren’tcha asking one of ‘em ale sellers ‘stead?”

Priscilla shrugged her shoulders and shook her head slightly.

“You know I’m a newcomer in this city, I’m sure I’ll get side stares and not-so-accurate information.”

With an agreeable nod, he answered.

“Aye, s’pose that’s true.” He patted his hands against the dirty, grimy apron he wore before approaching her. “Well, lemme see it—who are ye lookin’ fer?”

“This man.” She took the bounty paper from her pocket and unfolded it to present it to him. “He looked like this about ten years ago, I wanted to check if you knew anything.”

“Ten ‘ole years eh?” He grabbed the paper and took a good look while muttering. “What do ye think ol’ Geralt is? A scribe?”

“Any information you know will help.”

“Hmm… lemme see ‘ere…” He scratched under his chin while making strange faces as he inspected the sketch. “Ah, this bloke. If me memory serves right… he lived near ‘em nobles up in the north district.”

“Nobles?”

“Aye.” He handed the paper back to her before crossing both arms. “Folks knew him by the name o’ ‘Father’, some religious prick, that one. Ran the church fer some time, but vanished after sum things happened to one o’ ‘em believers.”

“Hmm…” Priscilla nodded slowly as she folded the paper and pocketed it. “Thank you, Geralt.”

“Aye. Don’t get yerself in trouble.”

She nodded before leaving the shop.

Outside, her eyes traced to the settling sun just above the walls in the far horizon.

‘Less than an hour left until sundown… I need to hurry…’

With hurried steps, she made her way back through the central square towards the north district. Her fast pace earned her an equally quick shock from the disparity between the noble’s lavish residential district and the rest of the city.

Each house, or rather, mansion—had either stone walls or metal fences dividing each plot of land. Lush gardens and fancy stone paths were the norm with the occasional fountains, statues or vibrant colorful flowers filling their ample garden space.

However, just as each homestead was made to exuberate their wealth, so was the security detail. Each few meters or so, a townsguard would be standing watch with their halberds tall at their side. But that bothered her.

‘Didn’t Rhys say the town was short on guards…?’

She could feel their glares on the back of her neck as she passed by each of them. An adventurer seemed like a rare sight in those parts of the city—even more so considering the quality of her gear.

“Hey, you there.” One of the guards approached her with both hands on the shaft of his halberd as if he was ready to use it if necessary. He seemed more amicable than the guards at the city gates but he seemed equally as tense as a recruit despite being a middle aged man. “What brings you here?”

“I’m searching for someone.” She pulled out the bounty paper and showed it to the guard. “Here.”

He raised an eyebrow to her before taking the paper out of her hand. Since the mention of bounty hunting was unusual—he quickly took three steps back to maintain his distance. Ironically, Priscilla quickly eyed the gap between her and the guard—noticing she could still hit him even at that range with her rapier.

“Let me see…” He stared at the information written on the paper and frowned his brows. “Are you really pursuing this? This is ten years old.”

“Yeah. Do you have any information regarding this?”

He stepped close to hand back the bounty but quickly stepped back.

“Nngh…” He gently lifted the side of his kettle helmet before scratching his hairline. “I’m not even sure if that fool is still alive, but he isn’t here if he is.”

“Ah?” She quickly pocketed the paper as she continued her inquiry. “Do you know him?”

“Not personally. Just heard of him back then he was a priest for the church.”

“”So… where would he be?”

“Definitely not here.” He motioned his head towards the mansions. “Folks here dislike religion.”

“Hm… I see.” She offered a small polite bow. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.” He adjusted his white gambeson that seemed to be a bit tight around the neck. “Listen, if you want to play bounty hunter for the guild—that’s fine. Just don’t come to this place looking for trouble.”

Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly as her left hand tightened its grip around the scabbard of her rapier.

‘I need to remember this isn’t Arcadia… I shouldn’t go around poking my nose into another kingdom’s matters…’

She sighed quietly before relaxing her hand.

“Understood. I’ll take my inquiries elsewhere.”

“That would be appreciated.”

She turned around and noticed a few of the other guards were closer than where they were originally standing. Her eyes darted between the two that were flanking her before she eventually walked past them back towards the center of the city.

Through yet another short walk, she was back in the central square. The streets were lit up with incandescent lamplight giving an orange tint to the otherwise low blue hue coming from the rising moon in the horizon.

By now, many adventurers and workers were getting out of the dungeon to either get a drink in a tavern or, for those less fortunate, get a cheap stiffer drink from the street merchants which were fast to change their goods from accessories or other utilities to food and other recreational items such as beer, curated meat, clay pipes meant for smoking and dried tobacco leaves.

Priscilla found a quiet corner in the square—crossed her arms and hung her head low for a bit before taking a deep breath and glance up at the night sky.

“Tsk. Maybe I should look in the slums… but then I’d leave Rionara alone in the inn…”

Her eyes traced to the sudden large crowd of people heading to one tavern right across the guild. The place’s name was signed in a large wooden plate above the entrance that read: ‘Explosive Delight’.

‘What a tacky name.’ She thought before bringing her right hand close to her chin and mouth. She loosely held both sides of her jaw while considering what to do next. ‘Then again, if anyone is willing to gossip, it would be the tavern keepers or adventurers…’

She closed her eyes while unconsciously furrowing, which made a few passersby take a wide berth around her in order to avoid going near the clearly well armed and supposedly angry adventurer.

‘Ugh… I hate this…’

She opened her eyes again and uncrossed her arms before reaching for the back of her neck with her right hand. After tilting her head to one side and another to relieve the tension on her neck, she let out a short sigh as she pushed herself to walk towards the tavern.

Groups of adventurers gathered around the entrance after buying drinks to enjoy it in the chill evening air outside. Priscilla saw a few fellow female adventurers smiling and conversing with the rest which meant the men there were at least amicable enough.

She proceeded inside without making much eye contact with other patrons. One step in and her nose was hit with a mix of alcohol, tobacco and sweat. Many people were crowding the interior carrying tankards, wooden plates of food, trays filled with dried leaves and clay pipes. The air was heavy and unpleasant, but Priscilla decided to move up to the counter.

“One beer, please.”

She reached for her pocket and slid six copper coins alongside the wooden surface. A man wearing a grimy apron came with her order with one wooden tankard full to the brim with beer. His slick brown hair was combed back, the hazel eyes were lazily inspecting the money before he took five out of the six coins and pocketed it.

He put the beverage in front of her and asked.

“Anything else?” He scratched his temple before wiping a bead of sweat with the back of the same hand. “We got some sausages cooking in the back on the coals.”

“Huh, no, thank you.” She grabbed the top of the tankard and rotated it until the metallic handle was facing her. “Do you know about a guy known as ‘Father’?

“Ah?” His attention was on a tankard that he was wiping dry, but her words seemed to amuse him somewhat. The raised eyebrow and half smirk made it seem like he knew something. “Are you new in this city?”

She tilted her head in confusion.

“Why?”

“The only people looking for him are either the guards or bounty hunters.” He glanced from the tankard to her eyes. “You don’t look like the former.”

‘Guards…?’

She leaned forward a bit as she continued.

“So you know where he is.”

“Hah, everyone in this line of business knows who ‘Father’ is—rather, was.” He settled the dry tankard behind the counter and put both hands far apart while leaning forward. “Though, if you want more information—it’ll cost you.”

“Tsk.”

“Hector, it isn’t good business practice to extort money from new adventurers.”

One familiar male voice came from Priscilla’s right side which made her glance briefly towards it. A tall man clad in full plate armor approached them.

“Oho, Reinhardt. You know full well how we do business here. If Miss Adventurer here can’t pay the fee then why would I give information?”

The name rang familiar in her ears as she looked up at his helmet.

‘That name…’

“Ah!” She exclaimed with her eyes wide in surprise. “Sir Reinhardt!”

He lifted his gauntlet clad hands in a friendly greeting.

“Hey. Were you able to take any jobs?”

“Not quite. I’m looking for someone.”

“The Lass is looking for ‘Father’.”

Hector's interjection made Priscilla give him a stern look that could almost bore a hole through him. To avoid any further trouble, Reinhardt decided to speak up.

“How about you buy me a drink and we’ll talk over this.” The armored adventurer glanced briefly at the tavernkeeper. “Would that be fine?”

“Well, I suppose that works.” He replied. Priscilla begrudgingly nodded before leaving four extra coins on the counter which Hector was quick to pocket. “Aye, thanks for your patronage.”

After getting his drink. Reinhardt ushered Priscilla to follow him outside the tavern as it was both too noisy and it didn’t seem like the best place to talk about a bounty. They walked around to the side of the tavern where he stopped and started to fiddle underneath his helmet.

“Sorry.” He said with his head tilted slightly up in order to access the leather strap beneath his chin. “It’ll only take a minute.” After loosening it up he grabbed the protective gear and removed it from his head—revealing a messy brown hair, dark brown eyes and a quiet, weary, but warm smile. “It has been some time, Miss.”

“It certainly has. Once again, thank you, Sir Reinhardt.” She bowed her head slightly. “If not for you, I wouldn’t have been able to register at the guild.”

“Oh no need to thank me, after all, you already did.” He extended his hand to her which she replied by giving him his share of beer. “So, you’re looking for ‘Father’, correct?” She nodded but his warm expression suddenly darkened just enough for her to feel something was wrong. “I advise against it.”

“Huh? Why?”

“It’s not… it’s not an easy job, plus the reward itself isn’t–”

“It’s not for the reward.” She had a glint of determination in her eyes that made Reinhardt widen his eyes in surprise for a brief moment. “It’s for justice.”

Her words made him hesitate for a bit, even smile bittersweetly before looking her straight in the eyes.

“I see. Very well.” He took a sip of his beverage before pointing towards the church in the distance. “Beyond the church there’ll be a lone shack near a tree, you’ll find him there.”

Priscilla flinched her head back in a mix of surprise and suspicion. If where that man lived was no secret, then why was he still there?

He clenched both her hand and teeth before looking up at him.

“Thank you for the information, Sir Reinhardt.” She offered him her own beer, which he held while holding a sad smile on his face. “I must head off now.”

“Mhmm. Be careful out there.”

She nodded.

“I will.”

With hurried steps she made her way into the alleys towards the slums. Reinhardt kept looking at her back until she vanished into the darkness, which by then he proceeded to speak softly, almost to himself.

“You are about to see how deep the corruption runs in this place.” He glanced over his shoulder to a figure stalking him from around the corner. “Isn’t that right? Elaine?”

Priscilla’s fast pace was attributed to two things. The moon high in the dark sky and a nagging feeling of wrongness.

‘All of this is strange… why would the guards and adventurers know where this man is, yet, never claim this bounty?’ Her heart was beating fast and strongly—cold sweat formed in the palm of her hands as she swallowed dry. ‘Maybe he’s a powerful priest… I heard miracles can be as powerful if not more than elemental magic…’

She stared at her right palm and concentrated mana into it, which started to send faint sparks of electricity around it. After letting out a slow, deep sigh, she clenched it into a fist and started to pick up the pace—breaking into a light jog.

During the day the slums were, to put it mildly, a poor place to live in. At night, it was truly a place where danger could linger at any corner. The lack of lamplight, patrolling guards and the maze-like alleys meant that anyone armed with a decent weapon would be able to mug or kill anyone that came to that place unprepared.

Her eyes darted from corner to corner while gripping the scabbard with her left hand tightly in preparation for battle. Despite her lack of subtlety, she was able to go past the closed ruined church and reach the area where a lone wooden shack was built near a tree by the high walls around the town.

She noticed a faint light coming from behind the shack and decided to approach it silently. Walking slowly on her heels made her quiet aside from the occasional gentle metallic clink of the chainmail beneath her jacket. Her right hand reached for the hilt of her rapier and carefully drew the thin blade from within its scabbard. Faint moonlight reflected from the steel blade as she adjusted her grip—her free left hand was kept low with mana gently coursing through it, emitting a gentle light blue glow.

As she reached the windowless shack, Priscilla carefully peeked around the corner and noticed a scrawny grizzly man hunched over by a campfire. He held a piece of stale bread and food scraps skewered through with a tree branch. He wore nothing but a few rags which made her question if the person before her was truly a former priest.

‘Aside from the hair… I can’t see any resemblance.’ She recalled the man’s physique and it was nowhere like the sketch in the bounty papers. ‘Hmm… can’t be too careful…’

She took a slow, deep breath before she decided to openly walk into the campfire light. Her footsteps accompanied with the clink of her chainmail was sure to make enough noise to announce her presence, yet the man didn’t even turn around—instead, he remained quietly taking care of the skewers.

Priscilla swallowed dry as she took another step closer while raising her voice to ask.

“Are you ‘Father’?”

She asked while readying her legs to pounce forward to strike if he did anything else other than answer her question.

“Oh…? Are you perhaps new?” He turned his face towards her. His hollowed eyes, sunken cheeks and battered complexion almost made her flinch as if she had come across a ghoul. “I don’t get many new visitors nowadays. Take a seat by the fire, we can talk a bit before you decide to arrest me.”

Priscilla shifted her right foot in front of her body while letting the rapier hang low beside her leg as she continued to talk.

“So you know why I came to this place.”

“I know why most people come here, yes.” He then proceeded to turn back to his skewers. “If not for coin, then for fame.”

“Then you know what I must do, then.”

“Yes. But pray let me finish preparing this food at the very least. I’ve worked in the fields all day for these meager scraps.”

With a brief glance she noticed the skewers were made from green tree branches and sharpened it by burning its tips down before rubbing against stone—much like how wooden arrows were made with the lack of a proper blade for whittling. Scraps of lettuce, tomatoes and bits of meat were dark around the part where they were skewered thanks to the charcoal point.

She narrowed her eyes and tightened her grip around the rapier’s handle.

“You’ll have plenty to eat in the dungeon.”

“This isn’t for me, bounty hunter.”

“Huh?”

He slowly turned to the entrance of his shack and knocked before raising his voice.

“Eleanor, your food is ready.”

At that moment Priscilla flicked her blade closer to her body as she was about to lunge into a thrust, but what came out of the shack wasn’t something the knight was expecting to see. A girl, not taller than Priscilla’s waist, was wearing a long faded cyan ragged dress. Her long curly blonde hair cascaded down like a makeshift blanket that covered almost all the way down the back of her knees, the big round emerald droopy eyes had a faint glint of happiness to them as well as the quiet smile that followed as she came out of the shack.

“Thank you Dad!” She noticed the knight holding her rapier from the corner of her eyes before turning to the man. “Dad, is she one of your friends?”

He glanced at Priscilla, who was still at loss for words, before replying.

“Yes, my child. She is.”

At that moment the knight lowered her blade. Something didn’t seem right.

“‘Father’, can we talk?”

He nodded silently before turning to Eleanor with a skewer in hand.

“Can you eat by yourself?”

“I’m a grown up. I can do it.”

He smiled warmly before patting her on the head.

“That’s my girl. Here.” He gently handed her the skewer and stood up by leaning most of his weight against the wooden door frame of the shack. “Be careful because it’s hot, alright?”

“Mhm.”

He turned and walked past Priscilla—who followed suit with her blade still in hand. They walked until they were far enough so the little girl couldn’t hear their conversation.

Upon turning around, the man was met with Priscilla pointing her rapier at his throat.

“Tell me the truth. Whose child did you abduct this time?”

He looked at the grass around his bare feet and smiled bitterly.

“It has been a long time since I’ve heard those words.” He shook his head and glanced at the girl eating by the campfire. “She is the child of the woman who put a bounty on my head.”

“What…?”

“Bounty hunter, let me ask you this. Who does this bounty benefit? You, the system or the victim?”

She narrowed her eyes, but not from anger, but confusion instead.

“What are you talking about…?”

“I am no criminal, all I did up until this point was to protect the one I held most dear. The child that was kidnapped was standing right before your eyes. My Eleanor is proof of my faith.”

“The child that was kidnapped…?”

Her narrowed eyes suddenly widened as a revelation struck her. Seeing that she seemed to understand what he meant, he started to chuckle sourly to himself.

“Yes, do you now see why? Fame, wealth, who does this bounty benefit the most?”

She lowered her rapier before sheathing it. In front of her was no criminal. No, that man was a victim himself. She closed her eyes as her blade let out a loud—distinct clink as it fit completely into the scabbard.

“Tell me who framed you.”

“I…” He was about to say it but after a deliberate hesitant gasp, he decided to shake his head. “No, this isn’t worth your time, bounty hunter. Besides… you would only meet your end if you were to go after them. As long as Eleanor is safe and well. That’s all I ask for.”

Priscilla let out a quiet long sigh as she looked down to her feet before looking up.

“Very well. Take care, ‘Father’.”

He nodded slowly.

“You too, child.”

She watched him scramble back towards the shack, but before he reached the top, the knight noticed the small child waving goodbye to her to which she responded with a small wave of her own.

She stretched her arms out as fatigue was catching up to her. With a long exasperated sigh she started to make her way back through the slums.

‘Well… on the bright side I don’t need to save face when returning this unclaimed bounty.’ She looked over her shoulder and noticed how happy the child seemed as she was about to step into the alleyway. ‘She seemed happy at least…’

Her quiet footsteps and clinking of chainmail filled the dark night alongside the distant noise of critters. The clear night sky was filled with stars that shone brightly like gems in the darkness.

“Heh, I guess bounty hunting isn’t really for me-”

Absent-mindly walking around the slums, however, was a mistake on her part as the moment she heard a nearby shuffling of clothes—it was already too late. A thick dagger came from the darkness and hit in the middle of her back—sending a sharp pain up to her head that made the knight quickly spin into a kick that the assailant dodged by slinking into the shadows from a nearby alley.

“Tsk!” She quickly drew her rapier and chased the culprit into the narrow alleyway. To her luck, she was wearing chainmail which stopped the blade from doing more than just bludgeoning her backside. “I was careless…”

Her eyes kept focused on the figure navigating the slums with nimble yet silent steps.

‘Maybe an assassin, not as good as Dame Phoebe but still…’ Her eyes sharpened as mana started to accumulate around her left wrist. ‘Better to take this seriously.’

A light blue glow started to flow from the center of her chest, coiling around her arm and then her wrist where it started to change from gentle blue to a fiery orange—then red alongside a green pulsating aura. That spell was a combination of the most basic ones she had in her arsenal, but considering the lack of space and the proximity of the rundown shacks, she didn’t want to risk torching something on fire by accident.

She quickly stopped for a brief moment while extending her left hand towards the back of her attacker.

“Wind Shot Firebolt!”

Wind cracked as the mote of fire rapidly rammed straight into their back, not only lit their clothes ablaze but the sheer power of the impact made them trip forward and fall face first into the mud.

“Gah!”

A low grunt came from the cloaked figure which, on closer inspection, made her realize it was a man roughly her height.

‘No need to go easy on him, huh?’

She quickly closed the distance before brandishing her rapier and with two quick strokes she severed both of his achilles’ tendons before spinning the rapier and driving the blade through his right hand that was about to reach for mud in order to throw it.

“ARGH!”

“Hurts doesn’t it? I can be much rougher if you don’t comply.” She stomped on his arm with her left foot and yanked the rapier out before flicking the dagger away from his hand with the tip of her blade. “Who sent you?”

“None of your damn business!”

“You know, I pity you.” She kicked him in the shoulder, flipping him upside against the mud which put out the fire on his back. “Whoever sent you doesn't know who they are dealing with.”

“Ugh, you bitch!”

She yanked him upwards from the collar of his muddy clothes before clocking him across the temple with the bellguard of her rapier—knocking him out cold. Upon letting out an exasperated sigh, she dropped him against the wall of a shack before taking a look around the alleys.

‘If there were any more, they probably ran off when they saw me use magic. This isn’t good…’ She quickly sheathed her blade and grabbed the man by his left wrist. ‘Should I report this to the guild or city guard…?’

With hurried steps, she dragged the unconscious man alongside the ground while keeping an eye out for more trouble. Her mind was racing as the man behind her was being dragged through mud, rocks and the occasional dirt bump that would rock his entire body upwards.

“Tsk…” She clicked her tongue. “This is going to give me more trouble than it’s worth, I’m sure.”

Thankfully most of the people that were around in the central square had now gone to their homes to rest, but those that remained saw Priscilla carry a bloodied hooded man. Many of the vendors that were packing up their goods stopped midway to witness what the supposed adventurer had just brought from the slums.

“Ugh, what the hell…?”

“Did she kill that guy?

“No you idiot, she probably got jumped. Look at her clothes.”

Murmurs could be heard in the distance as she was dragging the unconscious man along the paved stone. As the knight stopped in front of the guild, a tired Lucina had just finished her duties when she came across a frightening scene in front of the hall.

“M-Miss Priscilla?! What in the world happened?!”

“It’s a long stoy… can I leave this guy in your care?”

“I… um… w-well I’m not even sure where to begin.” She put her hand on her forehead as she was definitely not prepared to deal with this at the end of her shift. “Come inside first, please.”

With large steps, Priscilla climbed the small step that jerked her assailant’s body up as he hit his forehead against the wooden step.

“Ugh…”

Priscilla grunted as she dragged him to the middle of the hall and left him there before taking a seat on a nearby wooden chair from one of the tables. Only after she realized there were still some adventurers in the same hall which made close her eyes shut and shake her head while pinching her nose bridge.

‘Ha… I messed up big. I should’ve brought this trash to the guards instead…’

“First of all, Miss Priscilla, are you alright?” Lucina was carrying a stack of thin papers with her as she approached the knight. “You seem very tired.”

“I was walking the entire day and this scum decided to ambush me in the slums.” She flicked her head twice towards the unconscious man on the floor. “I couldn’t get much information out of him but apparently he’s a hired assassin.”

Upon saying those words she realized how insane it sounded given the man before her was a bloody mess with mud and crimson red stains trailed alongside his sprawled body in the middle of the hall.

“R-right…” Lucina shifted her attention to the man and then the papers on her hands. “Could I maybe take a look at him? An assassin kind of person seems like one of the bounties we had for claiming.”

“Go ahead. I’ll stay here in case he wakes up.”

After taking another deep breath, the knight stood up and remained beside Lucina. She kneeled down and unceremoniously removed part of the man’s cloak in order to inspect him. Her eyes trailed from the bloody temple to his stabbed right hand that was starting to pool red against the lighter colored floor.

“Oh… he’s still bleeding.” The receptionist murmured before standing up. “Give me a second, I’ll get a healer. We don’t really want him bleeding out here in the middle of the hall.”

“Sure.”

In the meantime, the other adventurers present started to talk amongst themselves.

“Isn’t she the copper adventurer from the other day?”

“The one with the kid? Yeah, that’s her alright.”

“Was she the one who did that on him? She doesn’t look much of a fighter.”

Priscilla remained quiet with her arms crossed. Her occasional glance towards the door expecting a group of guards to come was well warranted but it never came to pass as Lucina not only had time to patch the guy up but also match his appearance with one of the records for a bounty.

“Miss Priscilla. Tell me the truth.” The receptionist looked over her shoulder with widened eyes. “Were you the one who did this to him?”

“Hm? Yeah, I had to. He tried to stab me in the back with a dagger.”

“I… I don’t know what to tell you…” She swallowed dry before standing up with both her hands clenched on the papers. “You caught the man nicknamed Black Assassin. One of the most notorious individuals in Arivaul.”

Priscilla remained quiet for a few more seconds before she finally blinked a few times and replied with a raised eyebrow.

“Huh?”